


Disco Night

by Filthycasual



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood, Cutting, Dancing, Disco, Drinking, Fellatio, Flirting, Genitals, GorZsasz - Freeform, Hand Jobs, M/M, Pain, Pole Dancing, Seduction, Sex, Stripping, naked, nude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:42:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28882644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filthycasual/pseuds/Filthycasual
Summary: Jim decides to get out of his comfort zone and head to a new club where he runs into Victor Zsasz. Despite his better judgement he stays to keep an “eye” on the cheeky assassin.
Relationships: Jim Gordon & Victor Zsasz, Jim Gordon/Victor Zsasz
Comments: 21
Kudos: 13





	1. Shirley Temple

**Author's Note:**

> I had to get this one knocked out before I continue with my other Gotham AU story. I wanted a break for something short and fun.

Jim grabs coat and peers down at Harvey. “You sure?”

The hunched over form of the older detective stirs as a ballpoint pen halts in its tracks. Harvey had been burdened with paperwork for the last two hours. A stack of completed reports litter the top of his desk along with emptied coffee cups and a half eaten bagel.

Harvey glances over his reading glasses at his partner and replies. “Wish I could, but I promised Alvarez and some of the guys I would go to poker night.”

Jim flashes a sour look as he threads his arms through his wool coat. He grabs his wallet and badge from the top of his desk. He then opens his leather bill fold and drops a twenty spot in front of his partner.

Harvey snatches the crisp bill and leans back in his chair. He waves it in-between two fingers.

“What’s this for?”

“For the last couple of lunches you bought. Maybe you can turn that into a night of rounds when we go out drinking again.”

Harvey smirks as he snaps the bill a couple of times. “Consider it done. I’ve been cleanin’ house at Texas Hold’em. It’s all Alvarez likes to play when it's his night to host.” He pockets the cash and adds. “Hey, heard The Studio is supposed to be really good. You should go check it out. Change up your routine once in a while.”

“Isn’t it a strip club? Not exactly an environment for the level of brooding I require every Friday.” Jim flashes Harvey a half smile.

“Yeah. I know. Com’on. Go scope it out for me. We need a new place to unwind.”

Jim offers a salute as he turns. “Yeah. I’ll think about it. Good luck!”

  
—

  
Jim sips on his third beer as he relaxes at his usual spot at Bernardo’s bar. The joint is uncommonly empty that night. Normally he would revel in the peace, but it was proving too much for him to bear. His mind begins to wander and it always ends up in the same place— _Lee._

It’s been months since her marriage to Mario. He’s avoided involving himself with anyone else and has dove deep into work. There have been interests, a couple, but nothing that’s gone beyond a day or two. Every time he touches another woman all he can envision is the love he lost.

His phone snaps him out of his thoughts; the vibration alerts him of a text message.

_Ur at Bernie’s aren’t u?_

_Go have fun dammit!_

Jim raises an eyebrow as he taps out a reply.

  
  


_I’m headed to The Studio_

_Quit bitchin’_

  
  


He lays cash on the bar top and heads over to the new night club. The establishment is nestled on a busy street of bustling nightlife. The entrance has a steady influx of people coming and going. He sees a sign at the door.

  
  


_Pole dancing/ strip night_

_Winner gets cash award_

_and free drinks_

_Anyone can enter_

  
  


Jim finds a spot close to the stage after obtaining a whisky. He looks around and takes in his fellow revelers. Just about everyone close to the stage are men. There were a few women speckled throughout, but the ratio is heavily skewed. He thinks nothing of it as he swallows two large gulps of his whisky and waits for the show to begin. 

The club is playing music from the bygone disco era; catchy songs that still manage to creep their way into movies and commercial ads. He doesn’t care for it, but he doesn’t mind since it’s a nice change from the piano bars he usually frequents.

The lights go dim; people start their applause. Sharp whistles issue throughout the crowd. An announcer welcomes everyone to the club.

“ _What it is?!_ Welcome to ametuer dance night. We have a total of ten daring contestants for our viewing pleasure. The winner will be judged by the audience. So clap, whistle, and shout at the end of their routine. And as always, Friday is disco night. Give it up for our first contestant Micheal!”

The music starts with a fast number from [ Blondie, “Call Me” _._ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=StKVS0eI85I)

Jim chuckles. He had to give it to the small blonde. Men usually aren’t well received as women when it comes to these types of contests. He watches the amateur caught in graceful whipping throes as he explores the stage. He is remarkably a good dancer, but a bit clumsy with taking his clothes off.

There are many people cheering him on, encouraging him to keep stripping even though the man is down to his jockey. Jim glances over at the bar; he needs more to drink. It’s ten in the evening and he’s barely on the cusp of a buzz. His eyes catch a man approaching the DJ booth. 

_Zsasz._

Jim’s brows lower as his eyes stay glued to Penguin’s enforcer. Victor is chatting up the man behind the music. He then pats him on the back and heads for the bar. Jim peers around the floor for Zsasz’s entourage, but the man looks to be alone. 

He slips through the cheering crowds to get better sights on the pale gunman. He’s jostled and pushed as the spectators cheer. He forces his way through only to lose track of Zsasz once in the clear. The swirling disco lights only mask and disorient his vision. He grits his teeth and scowls as he turns every which way looking for that ghostly white head.

He slowly approaches the bar as his steely gaze continues to scan around. The bartender comes over.

“What would you like _hot stuff_?

Jim blinks at the question as the smiling large man patiently awaits his order. Jim offers a nervous grin and clears his throat.

“Old Fashioned and a draft, red. If you have it.”

“You’re in luck.” The man begins work on the order. He glances up at him and asks, “Here alone?”

Jim leans on the bar; he peers over each shoulder as he distractingly answers. “Yeah. Just passing through. A friend told me about this place. Thought I would check it out.”

“Well, fortunate for you, it's amateur strip night.”

Jim returns his attention to the man and nods. “I see. Everyone seems to be having fun.”

The bartender nods and hands him the Old Fashion. He then retrieves a frosted mug and pours the beer. He comments with a large grin.

“You should have entered. A slice like you? Too easy.”

Jim chuckles and shakes his head. “Not my thing. Besides I don’t dance and I like keeping my clothes on in public. Is this a regular event?”

“Yup. Ever since we opened.” The bartender slides the frosty beer over. “That’ll be ten even.”

Jim retrieves his bill fold and that’s when an arm slides over his shoulder. A gloved-hand drops money on the bar top as a familiar voice pipes in from behind him.

“I got his tab, Jake.”

Jim stiffens as he looks over his shoulder. Victor slides in next to him as a lopsided-grin beams all too close.

“Jim, what a nice surprise to see you _here_.”

“Victor.”

Zsasz narrows his eyes as he drinks in the finely-dressed detective. “Are you sure you don’t dance? I would love to see you up there, takin’ it all off.”

Jim’s upper lip curls as he growls out. “How about you get out of my sight before I haul you in?”

Victor purses his lips as he looks the detective over once again. “I got a feelin’ you’re not armed. Besides, I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Jim begins drinking his beer. Though he knows he should keep a safe distance from the Oswald’s enforcer he can’t help but be intrigued. Victor isn’t one to cause trouble unless he is paid to do it. Also, the man didn’t appear to have his guns on him either.

“Good, keep it that way. I’m in no mood.”

Victor smirks. “Oh, that’s too bad. Stick around, Jim. You may want to cuff me after you see what I’m gonna do.”

Zsasz winks and walks into the crowds.

Jim’s hardened gaze follows the pale gunman. He is about to get up and follow when the bartender comments.

“He goes on last. He won last time too.”

Jim whips his head back around to Jake the bartender. “Huh?”

“He’s amazing. Might want to claim a spot up front before you’re left out.”

Jim hesitates but notices the crowds are getting thicker. Though he knows he should be concerned that Zsasz is around, he figures that it's best to wait and see. He collects his drinks and makes his way back to the stage.

He finds a seat upfront as vacating spectators get up and offer him their small stage-side table. His phone vibrates with a text message from Harvey.

_How is it?_

_Did you go?_

Jim takes a calculating gaze of his surroundings. It finally dawns on him— _he is in a gay club_.

He groans out a chuckle. There are men all around him, flirting, kissing, and dancing as the next male contestant performs his improv dance routine.

He taps out a reply.

_You sent me to a gay bar_

  
  


Harvey is currently working a reply as a pop-up of three dots begin blinking. A breezy sound emits with a prompt reply.

  
  


_Ah shit! REALLY?_

  
  


Jim chuckles; he is actually having a little fun. He swallows thickly when he realizes that Victor will be stripping. Another breezy sound of another text chimes from his phone.

  
  


_Stick around_

_Scam free drinks_

_ur a hottie :3_

  
  


Jim shakes his head; he contemplates leaving. He is a little uncomfortable hanging out to watch Zsasz strip. He wasn’t sure how he would be able to function if he and the assassin were to face off again, especially after watching him dance in the nude. His mind begins to wonder what the infamous killer would even **look** like naked. 

Victor’s wink pops up into his head.

He swallows again, a little ashamed of himself for being curious over such things. A drink sliding onto his table snaps him out of his licentious thoughts. He looks up with mild annoyance. 

A young waiter smiles and points across the way with a thumb. “From Victor.”

Jim gapes for a moment then looks to where the waiter is pointing. Off in a corner, Victor is chatting up a few other men. The man then turns his gaze towards him; they lock eyes for a moment. Jim’s brow lowers as he turns towards the waiter to refuse the drink, but he is gone. He glances back at Zsasz who is retreating into a door that leads back stage.

Jim leans back in his chair and looks at his watch. He couldn't think of anywhere else he would rather head off to. Also, it’s still early and heading home was the last thing on his mind. He wants something different than the usual lonely Friday nights.

_And this is definitely different._

He begins rationalizing that he needs to keep an eye on Zsasz, to ensure he isn’t about to cause trouble. 

_That’s right. I’m making sure he is only here to dance and nothing else._

A conjured image of the pale gunman in a nude, _salacious_ dance springs into his mind. He fantasizes a powerful and sleek body performing in slow-motion, caught in the throes of provocative display. Hips undulating as abdominals flex and curl; he is encapsulated in-between two arms as he reaches out to touch Zsasz. He feels the stir of arousal at the mere thought of luminescent skin unveiled from under black garments. 

His throat constricts; it makes him cough a couple of times. He nervously grabs at his beer and chugs a few large swallows down. He slams the mug on the table, willing himself to keep his thoughts in check. He knows his piqued interest will only spell trouble if he allows himself to get carried away. 

_Something tells me that Zsasz would be more than happy to know how worked up he’s got me right now._

He peers down at the tall glass next to his beer. The fizzy drink is ladened with cherries and sporting a mini umbrella. He tosses the paper decoration aside and takes a sip. He blows out an amused breath once the ginger ale and grenadine mixture alights on his palette. 

_Shirely Temple? Figured he would try to ply me with alcohol. Strange man._

He leans back in his chair and returns to his beer and the show


	2. Falling Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim gets an eye full of Zsasz on stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean.... *fans*

Jim begins to relax by the time the fourth contestant gets on stage and by his third beer in.

He’s never been one for frivolities and gregarious merriment. His whole Army career he had been relentlessly hounded to join in parties and nightlife excursions. He always declined. Most of his Army brethren thought he was a prude— _straight laced._

That couldn’t be further from the truth. He often preferred anonymity and discretion when it comes to his wants and desires. Also, image is everything to him.

He has been here a total of an hour. During that time he often glanced around to ensure no one from the precinct was there to take notice of him. He felt secure enough in knowing his deviance from his normal routine would remain a secret.

People howl their approval for the dark-skinned dancer on stage. The amateur incorporated a bit of comedy and pop-lock dancing into the strip show. Though Jim enjoyed it he can not bring himself to act boisterously even if it seems socially acceptable to do so. 

He flashes a smile as people all around him continue with their rowdy approval. 

After the next five contestants finish, the intro to one of [ Donna Summer’s sultry hit ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nm-ISatLDG0)melts in. A fog machine blows out vapors onto the stage as a lone white light shines at the back stage curtain. The swirl of disco lights above the dance pole slow ever so slightly.

Jim sits a bit straighter in his chair when he sees Zsasz strut on stage. The man is already bare. His pale skin is bright under the spotlights. Much of him is washed-out from afar, but once he gets closer, Jim can see everything: smooth tight curvatures, honed muscles, the mesmerizing way his above average cock bounces from side to side.

The detective realizes he is gawking and staring too hard at Victor’s _hairless business._ He clears his throat and averts his gaze, but his attention returns to the spectacle, unable to help himself. Victor zeroes his sights on him and winks. 

Zsasz jumps and grabs onto the dance pole with both hands to begin his performance. He twirls around the long cool metal to get a little momentum. He goes around twice, his body is rigid and long; his toes pointed out.

Jim gapes at Victor’s pert buttocks spinning around like offerings on a Lazy Susan. 

Victor clamps onto the pole with his thick thighs as the beats and synthesized rhythms reach their apex and meld with Donna Summer’s voice. He gracefully executes a [ _cross knee release_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7UAVM-KSz_I)move. He slowly lets the pole go as his inner thighs hold him aloft. He bends back giving the audience a full frontal view of his tight abdominals and manhood.

_Ooh it's so good, it's so good_

_It's so good, it's so good_

_It's so good_

_Ooh I'm in love, I'm in love_

_I'm in love, I'm in love_

_I'm in love_

Jim is stunned by the display. He always figured Victor was strong and swift, but seeing him now has put a whole new light on the man’s capabilities. His form is graceful and flexible as he goes through his improv routine to the song.

His mind brings up the instances he and Victor were at odds. Though Jim isn’t as tall as Zsasz or as strong, he always prevailed. He knows he could never do what the man is doing on stage. Victor is able to put himself in extraordinary positions that seem to defy gravity. Yet, it astounds him that the assassin is not hand-to-hand combat capable despite his obvious outstanding physical conditioning.

His thoughts stray and he briefly wonders what it would be like to be handled by the younger man. His face flushes hot as his eyes follow and wander all over firm mounds that lead to the deep inner sanctum of the man’s body. 

_Ooh fall and free, fall and free_

_Fall and free, fall and free_

_Fall and free_

_Ooh you and me, you and me_

_You and me, you and me_

_You and me_

Victor is aloft, propped away from the pole by his hands and feet. He offers everyone a wink as he seductively undulates and thrusts his hips. Jim nearly spills his beer as he watches on awestruck. Zsasz eyes him with a smirk before continuing on.

Whistles and wolf calls sound loudly masking the music overhead. The cacophonous din brings Jim out of his steamy hazy. A waiter comes by and deposits a pineapple drink with an umbrella on his table. It’s the third fruity drink crowding the man’s refreshed beer.

Jim double-takes on the waiter and comments loudly to be heard over the cheering. “You can see I'm not drinking what you’re putting down. Why keep doing it?”

The waiter glances at Zsasz as the man continues with his performance upstage. The server offers a large smile and shrugs.

Jim’s brow lowers as he watches the waiter walk away. Nearby, two men glance down at him. They smirk as they whisper to each other then erupt into laughter. They eyeball him again; the older of the two takes pity and leans down. He points at the umbrellas.

“Honey, someone is marking you as _straight_ so no one wastes their time.”

Jim frowns down at the drinks then back up at Zsasz. The man is in an [_advanced plank_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t8lUXo9yN9M) maneuver as he spins three feet off the ground. Jim then glances up at the couple, offering an uneasy grin along with a nod.

He glowers at the drinks littering his table. He didn’t mind the sabotage since he isn’t there looking for a hook-up. However, he thought it was rather presumptuous of the cheeky gunman to label him as so.

He returns his sights to Victor who is now at the top of the pole spinning faster. He performs a maneuver that puts him upside down with one leg extended while the other is clamped down onto the pole. He then slips effortlessly into [ _box splits_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1X2QVPMlXNg). 

Everything is spread bare for the audience to stare at; Jim is mesmerized by the sight. His perturbed demeanor vanishes in an instant. His eyes feast on a smooth ass crack, perineum, and testicles.

Zsasz releases his splits and continues into an [ _eye opener_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ECMvGjnzt4) move. As his momentum slows he zeros in on Jim; the detective’s eyes are planted in between his legs. A blue gaze snaps to his, locking onto him. 

He blows the gaping detective a kiss.

_Ooh, I got you, I got you_

_I got you, I got you_

_I got you_

_Ooh, What you do, what you do_

_What you do, what you do_

_What you do_

Jim’s face flashes hot with the flirty gesture. Though the assassin is voluntarily exposing himself in a grand spectacle, he can't help but feel like he’s the one who should be ashamed. He looks away in embarrassment not only for himself but also for Victor. He begins to regret staying. His presence feels _intrusive_ as he watches the infamous killer act out of character. 

Victor slides down and performs a handstand while facing the pole. He clutches the metal with his thighs and feet, inching his way up, upside down. Powerful muscles engage and ripple across his back, shoulders and legs.

Jim’s phone vibrates and flashes, grabbing his attention. Harvey is calling. He opens his phone and places a finger in the other ear to hear.

“Hey, Harv.”

“Hey bud. Still wanna hang? Poker night was called early. Guess who turned your twenty into a hundred and eighty smackeroos?”

Jim glances up to witness Victor perform a [ serpent move ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HWfVVc9CKBM) on the pole, sending him into a tight spin. Zsasz keeps the move going as the song begins to fade. 

“Jim?”

“Uuuhh. You know, Harv, I think I’m going to finish my drink and head home. Save that money for next weekend.”

“Agh! Fine. So, you gettin’ any action at The Studio?” 

A bawdy cackle blasts through the ear piece; Jim winces as he pulls the phone away. He groans and grabs one of the paper umbrellas. He spins it in between two fingers as he glances up at Victor. 

“About as much luck as someone as myself is able to pull off in a place like this.”

The song ends and the audience erupts in cheers. Victor slides down the pole and waves his gratitude as he stands tall; a large open mouth smile flashes in the lights. Zsasz narrows his eyes at Jim as he turns to exit the stage. 

Harvey’s chuckle and loud proclamation returns his attention. “Ah so, drownin’ in free drinks and hastily scribbled numbers then!”

Jim’s brow lowers. “Really? No. Not at all.”

Harvey lets out one last bellowing laugh before replying. “You’re probably sittin’ there like a cold fish, I bet. Anyways, it sounds like it’s lively over there. So, it’s a gay club for real?”

“Yeah. Hey. I'll let you go. It’s too noisy. Want to meet up for breakfast?”

“Hell, yeah. The Griddle. Eight sharp. My treat.”

“See you there.”

Jim stands and begins cutting through the crowds. He approaches the bartender as he pulls out his cash. Jake hands a customer a drink and smiles at him. Jim lays two twenties on the bar top and comments with a smirk.

“Umbrellaed drinks?”

Jake grins and replies. “Yeah, sorry. Zsasz wanted to make sure you weren’t harassed all night.”

“Please give this to Victor. I can’t accept gifts from him.”

Jake takes the money and nods. “Will do.”

“Let him know he has my vote.”

Jake nods and begins serving other customers. Jim exits the club and walks down the strip. He wanted to enjoy a bit of fresh air and silence before hailing a cab. He shoves his hands in his leather jacket once the cool crisp autumn air begins cutting through him. The spectacle of Zsasz performing naked is permanently seared into his head for all time. He thought about hanging out afterwards but knew that was only in hopes that Victor would approach him again.

_Then what? It’s best that I left._

He is certain a night spent with Victor would be amazing, but he wasn’t sure he would survive the guilt after. Granting clemency to the killer for a thrill would eat at him.

_Or would it? I’ve done worse things._

After a block he looks out towards the road and spies a couple of taxis creeping down the road in anticipation of customers. 

He holds up a hand, that's when an Impala peals out in front of them. The roar of the engine and squeal of tires halts everyone in their tracks. A sea of heads on either side of the road swivel towards the racket. The taxis blare their horns.

Jim lowers his hand when the muscle car slows, it’s growl turning into a deep-throated purr as it stops next to the sidewalk. The driver side window rolls down. [ An icon song from Yvonne Elliman ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gQ8O9SidZbs&list=RDgQ8O9SidZbs&index=1) blares from the vehicle as a familiar grin greets him from behind a lowering tinted window.

Zsasz turns the music down a little and nods towards his passenger seat. Jim gapes at the assassin for a moment. The man obviously hurried into his clothing to catch up to him; Victor’s shirt is barely buttoned.

“I’ll take you wherever you want.”

Jim’s shock fades and for the first time he has a hard time slipping back into his tough guy persona. He glances back at the club and comments.

“Did you even stick around to see if you won?”

Victor shrugs one shoulder. “It’s not important. It’s only for fun.” He flashes the indecisive man a genuine smile. “Are you conflicted ‘bout hoppin’ in?”

Jim swallows as a small frown begins to develop. Victor opens his coat and holds up his hands. “I don’t have my guns. I’m off the clock. I promise to be a good boy. Com’on. It’s cold out.”

He didn't know what spurred him on. Maybe it was the chilly night time weather. Maybe it was his loneliness. Or maybe it was the seared image of Zsasz’s perfect body spinning around in his mind. That gorgeous display of agility and strength married with seductive masculinity; it gripped him. 

Jim slides into the passenger seat. He peers over at Victor after closing the door.

Victor drawls warmly, “Where to?” 

Zsasz leans back in his seat as he eyes the blonde expectantly. Jim turns to look out the side window; a small shrug answers his question. He watches as the detective rubs a finger under his lower lip. His passenger then nervously peers over at him. The unprecedented moment fragile in its conception as the two rivals cautiously regard each other. 

Victor’s lips part; he utters softly. “If you don’t needa be anywhere. I got an idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ive always written Jim as one with latent tendencies. Here I decided to make him know what he is all about. And he is all about stupid sexy Zsasz.


	3. The Classroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zsasz gives Jim a private lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My fluff isn’t so fluffy but there is some thickness there. =)

Jim gapes at the darkened space front of him. The glint of several long metal poles shine in the red _exit_ light above the door. 

“Is this a classroom for pole dancing?”

He watches as Victor flicks on the light switches to the large studio room. The canned lighting floods the area instantly. The space sits on the ground level of a vacant building. A wall of blacked-out windows mask the room from pedestrians to give students privacy.

Victor nods as he jaunts over to a shelf containing speakers and an old stereo system. He turns the selector knob to a specific station. Once he finds what he is looking for he turns to face Jim.

The radio station is in the last minutes of a song from[ Kool and the Gang ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2xJWQPdG7jE&list=PLzkJGO1JtnC7dI3u-LeREsxuJPiAjJimm&index=45).

Jim’s brows rise as he asks. “Is this _your_ dance studio?”

Victor smirks. “Yeah. It’s my hobby.”

The corner of Jim’s lips turn down as he nods with amazement. He watches as Victor approaches him, rubbing his chin in deep thought. The younger man plants himself in front of him.

“I usually don’t take stock when someone says they don’t dance. I get at least one student every class that says that.”

Jim raises an eyebrow and holds his head back as he eyes Victor. He asserts with a scoff. 

“There are people who don’t dance. Like there are people who don’t like music.” 

Zsasz crinkles his brow and levels an incredulous look down at the blonde. 

“ _Psychopaths._ ”

Jim eyes the exposed tally marks visible through a half-buttoned shirt. He almost snarks back at the killer that he is one. Instead he swallows the remark, not wanting to sound petty or insulting. He instead gruffs lightly.

“I can do without either.”

Victor raises an eyebrow as he turns and walks away. He approaches a wall covered in floor-to-ceiling length mirrors at the front of the classroom. He removes his coat, flinging it to the ground. He then peers over at Jim with a plaintive look on his face. He presses his lips together and lets out a small forlorned hum.

The detective shoves his hands in his jacket as he looks away. The chasm of differences between the two is unfathomable to begin with, but he senses Zsasz is giving serious thought to ending the evening over his response. 

Regret begins to build over taking Victor’s offer for a ride. He didn’t know what he expected or why. His capricious nature often gets him into deep water at work, but in his personal life he is often reserved— _level-headed._ He’s certain he has lost his sanity, allowing himself to socialize with the killer. Worse yet, to hope for a torrid fling.

A cool hand softly takes his chin and lifts. He looks up into large dark eyes that hold a faint spark of what appears to be compassion. The sentiment was strange coming from Gotham’s infamously sadistic assassin. Jim realizes that is why he is so conflicted. He expected a heated and dangerous sexual escapade, but instead the strange man has shown him patience.

The both of them eye each other for a few moments. Victor smiles as he takes hold of Jim’s wrists and pulls his hands out of his pockets. He then guides the stiff man towards a pole.

Zsasz places the blonde’s right hand on the cool metal. He then places his own left just above Jim’s and leans into his ear.

“Let go, Jim. It’s just you and me.”

Victor grins as he takes Jim’s other hand and walks him around the pole. The detective gapes up at him. His body floods in heat as his eyes remain glued to the youthful face before him. Instead of fighting and resisting, he surprisingly complies with being led.

Zsasz beams brightly. “See? It’s not so bad. I’ll go slow.”

The detective is beguiled. Pacified. Victor’s charm is a force to be reckoned with. It's deadlier than the killer’s prowess and much more powerful than Jim’s hardened shell. Whatever resistance he might have had fades away by his touch and soft reassuring tone.

A warm smile graces Victor’s smooth features as he peers down at the wide-eyed detective. He pulls away from the pole and points down at Jim’s foot.

“Put your weight on your right foot at the base of the pole. Now lean out and drop your weight as you hang tight.”

Jim does as instructed and spins around the pole. He allows just one revolution before stopping himself. He shyly blinks at his unlikely companion.

[ A slow paced Bee Gee’s song fades in ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XpqqjU7u5Yc&list=RDgQ8O9SidZbs&index=5) from the sound system. Victor approaches. He reaches out and takes Jim by the hips to draw him in. The smaller man flushes red but makes no move to deter the contact. Victor reaches up and slides his hands under the warm leather jacket at Jim’s shoulders. He then slowly works the outer garment down the man’s arms. 

Victor leans in as he slips the jacket past Jim’s hands. The two watch each other with unblinking eyes; their breaths mingle in the close proximity. Zsasz slowly pulls away as his gaze slips down to Jim’s lips. He then turns and walks away to lay the cold weather garment over his own.

On his return, he takes a couple of bounding steps then leaps. He grabs a pole, executing a couple of spins while his thighs and hands grip the metal. He dismounts and struts over to the detective.

Victor holds out his hand towards Jim and smiles. “May I have this dance?”

Jim pauses for a moment, dumbstruck. The act of dancing not only confounds him, but makes him feel absurd and exposed. It’s further complicated by the fact that it’s Zsasz prodding him along. A raised hairless brow snaps him out of his hesitation. He nervously reaches for the outstretched hand.

He clasps onto the pale palm as another hand snakes around his waist, drawing him closer. Victor glances towards their joined hands and slowly readjusts to where their fingers are threaded together.

Victor whispers. “Don’t worry if you step on my feet. I’m wearin’ my steel toe Docs.” 

Jim gives him a slight nod. The man begins to sway as he gently leads him along in small steps from side to side. The initial feel of the dance is alien and unpredictable; he begins to overheat and sweat. He looks down at his feet to make sure he is stepping correctly but finds it more disorienting. He steps on Victor once and winces. A firm whisper commands his attention.

“Look at me, Jim. Don’t look down.”

Jim peers up; Victor’s large gaze is seemingly endless. He feels himself plummeting into their gravitational pull. Soon all of his uneasiness fades and he is able to keep up.

The hand around his waist clamps down a bit tighter. A hot flush surges throughout his body; he inhales deeply to keep the tempo of his breathing normalized. Victor’s essence blankets his senses, capturing him into a lustful stupor. His eyelids droop as warm skin permeates pheromones coupled with the remnant scent of wool and leather. There is also an ever so faint wisp of cologne. 

Despite trying his best to maintain his cool, a soft moan issues from his parted lips. His free hand relinquishes it’s perch on Victor’s forearm and alights on broad shoulders. This earns a large smile and even tighter embrace. 

Zsasz purrs softly, “You’re a natural.”

Jim offers a shy smile. His gaze begins to slip down to Victor’s mouth. He’s gripped by perfectly-shaped lips that part ever so slightly. He can envision himself smashing his mouth to them. He wants so badly to lose himself in Victor’s taste that he begins to lean in. 

A heavy breath expels from his dance partner. Before he is able to close the distance, the arm around his waist disappears. Victor manipulates his body and twirls him into a fast spin. He is then dipped as a strong hand at his back keeps him from spilling onto the ground.

A mischievous smile beams down at him before he is righted back onto his feet. Two arms encircle his waist, pulling him in tightly. The man purrs with amusement.

“I couldn't help myself.” Victor begins swaying again.

Jim presses his lips together then gruffs lightly. “Good thing someone’s been keeping me in virgin cocktails or I’d be sick.”

Zsasz chuckles. “Yeah.”

The detective shakes his head and smiles. “Did you tag me because you were sure that I was straight or was it for another reason?”

The assassin chuckles again. He bites his lower lip with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. “What can I say? I’m a huge cockblocker. I wasn’t gonna let anyone walk away with you.”

A smile manifests but soon disappears. Quick lips descend as a sharp breath floods into a half-opened mouth. Thick luscious lips envelope Jim; their warmth igniting a fire through him. His mental faculties are rendered useless by his overwhelming carnal response. He quickly shakes off his paralysis and wraps his arms around Victor’s shoulders meeting his fervor with his own. He opens his mouth as his tongue begs for play. Zsasz is quick to oblige. The two engage and dance tip-to-tip. Jim melts in his arms, but the juicy warm mouth soon departs.

Victor pulls away ever so slightly and tracks his eyes to Jim’s. His expression turns ponderous; he then comments. “I wanna teach you how to do The Hustle.”

Jim blinks at the sentence, confused by the switch in mood. Hot blood surges through his veins and the last thing he wants to do is talk or dance. His expression twists into a sour look.

Zsasz pulls away a couple of steps and faces Jim. He holds out both hands and nods down at them.

“Com’on.”

Jim’s frown deepens as a scoff emits between tight lips. He begins recoiling as it becomes apparent that Victor wants to continue his discomfort with more dancing. His pale companion nods down again as a lopsided-grin develops.

“It’s easy. I swear. It’s a few steps.”

Jim’s mouth slants as he watches Zsasz sway in amusement. He lets out a huge sigh and relents. “Okay. Fine.”

A large smile spreads across Victor’s face as he begins with instructions. “Start with your left foot in this position. On the ball.” Victor demonstrates with his own foot. Jim mimics him.

“Now what is gonna happen is you’re goin’ to momentarily put weight on the ball of your left foot then immediately step with your right. That’s called a change. So…” Victor performs the simple steps as he calls them out.

“Ball. Change. Now. You.”

Jim performs the steps and peers up at Victor. The pale assassin nods with a smile. 

“Again. Together. As I call it out.”

The two perform the simple steps. They return to their starting positions and perform it a few more times. Victor raises his hairless brow and nods.

“Now the last two steps are just that, two steps after the ball change. As we step, our hands are still together. We’ll be sort of side to side; as our arms are out. It’s quite natural. Ready?”

Jim nods. Victor calls out the steps as they perform it.

“Ball, change, step… step.” Victor then slowly returns them to the starting position. “Easy. Right?”

Jim smiles and offers a shy nod. He can feel his palms sweating heavily in Victor’s. The assassin calls out the steps again. The two make another more seamless round. Jim smiles up at his dance coach as they keep performing the moves quicker and quicker. Soon they are spinning around each other in a flurry of moves and chuckles.

Victor yanks Jim to him and envelops his lips once again; the kiss is more urgent and heated than before. The detective is quick to wrap himself around his body. He encases the smaller blonde in a tight embrace and smashes him close; Jim’s feet are half an inch off the ground. Teeth and tongue assault his mouth as the older man clings to him, ensuring he can not pull away again.

Victor clamps a hand onto an ass cheek and bares down hard. A throaty moan escapes from Jim’s mouth into his. The detective’s breaths are heavy and labored as a telling hardness is felt below. His own growing as well. Jim pulls away and utters.

“Can we get out of here?”

Victor expels a soft breath, doing his best to compose himself. He offers a nod as he grips down on Jim’s wrist. He begins to drag the detective along with him as he makes a quick stride towards the door.

Jim plants his feet and exclaims, “Zsasz, our jackets!”

Victor does an about-face and rushes over to their piled coats all the while pulling Jim along. He reaches down and takes the leather jacket while relinquishing his grip on the detective. He holds the soft garment up and open. 

Jim weaves his arms into his jacket then glances over his shoulder. Victor’s chivalrous manner catches him pleasantly off guard. He bats his blue eyes as a smile spreads. 

“Thank you.”

Victor cups Jim’s face and leans in, kissing the man tenderly. He then impatiently snatches his pea coat off the ground. He grabs at the smaller man’s wrist once again, ushering him as he hurries towards the exit. 

Jim’s smaller gait stutters into a light jog to keep from being yanked along.

“Keep up, Jim. I _will_ drag you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can envision Zsasz taking issue with Jim’s insistence that he does not like music or dance. This was sort of a test to see if Victor really wanted to expend energy on pursuing the stiff detective.


	4. Too Much Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Jim do the nasty =)

Victor pulls Jim close to him once they are both in his Impala; he thanks his lucky stars that he chose bench seating when restoring the classic car. The possibility of the gorgeous man cooling off and changing his mind would put a serious damper on his good mood. He roughly kisses Jim to ensure he is still interested. A hand grips the side of his face as a tongue meets his own. He moans into the hungry mouth, satisfied that he has a _sure thing_.

Jim smiles as Victor pulls away from the kiss. The man grabs the back of his neck and quickly leans in for a nip. He leans his head back, allowing a hot mouth and sharp teeth to tease at the thin skin of his neck. After three playful bites, Zsasz pulls away as he clumsily reaches for the ignition.

Once Victor starts the car, he wraps his right arm around Jim’s shoulders. He wants to keep him nice and snug against his body. Satisfied that the man is not going to pull away he turns on the radio.

The purr of the engine elicits a smile from Jim; he peers out to the hood. The car shimmies with five-hundred combustible horsepower waiting to be unleashed. He’s surprised that Zsasz isn’t driving something a little more… _mafioso._ He could see him in an Imperial Coupe, all black just like Falcone. Especially considering the trunk space— _for bodies_.

Despite the morbid thought, Jim chuckles to himself. Victor flashes a shark-like grin as he gives the motor some gas.

The rumble and vibrations only serve to further excite Jim below. He lays a hand on the firm lap beside him. The twitch of thick quads underneath thin slacks elicit a steamy mental image of him riding Victor’s lap, _among other things_. He slowly glides his hand towards the prominent erection straining against black fabric. He palms the large bulge as he shifts his attention back to watchful eyes.

Zsasz thrusts his hips into the firm grip. He gapes at the blonde for a moment in astonishment. He lets loose a breathy chuckle and shakes his head. He peers over his steering wheel and into the night; his brow lowering as he utters.

“I gotta be dreamin’. There’s no way this is real.”

“I know it’s crazy but right now I don’t care.”

Victor sighs, doing his best to temper his excitement. He takes Jim’s hand as he turns in his seat; his facial features twisted in thought. He puffs out a breath and averts his sights. He isn’t one to second guess, but his entire encounter with the _GCPD’s Golden Boy_ has been anything but conventional. As much as it would deflate his sails, he wants to give Jim the opportunity to backout.

His gaze casts down toward their coupled hands; he comments reluctantly. “Last chance to bail, detective.”

Jim raises an eyebrow as he studies Zsasz. A troubled expression etches across the normally breezy features of the unusual man. Dark eyes shift back to him as the corners of Victor’s mouth pull down. Jim scoffs.

“I think my chance was back at the strip.” He takes Victor’s face in his hand. “I want this.”

Jim is quick to lean in and plant his mouth onto plump parted-lips. Zsasz presses him to the seat as their tongues reengage. After a few moments, the assassin pulls away and chuckles softly.

“I’m glad you’re not drunk coz then I woulda just drove you home.”

“I’m a careful drinker.”

“Gotta stay alert for us bad boys when duty calls. Huh?”

Jim flashes a dallying smile. “You guessed it.”

Zsasz beams a boyish grin as he reaches for the power knob to the radio. The stereo lights up and plays a slow-paced intro to a disco [ love song. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0p6KbO5kaU) He then grins from ear to ear and caresses Jim’s face. Once the song on the radio flows into its first lyrics, he sings along with the female singer.

“Come to me. (strokes Jim’s face with the back of his fingers) When you're all alone and feelin' down. Come to me. When there's nobody else around. Come to me.”

Victor playfully nips at Jim’s neck before turning to get them on the road. His destination is a lengthy twenty minute drive at best. He didn’t mind; the stop lights and slow traffic served perfectly for stolen kisses and playful groping.

___

Victor parks in front of a residence in an affluent neighborhood. Once he kills the engine he beams with a large smile. 

“My place.”

Jim slides out of the car and waits for Victor to open the door to his home. The sound of more disco greets him as he steps inside the foyer. The music seems to be playing everywhere inside the two story house. He recognizes the [ slow song ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZxA3FVUwvk); it’s by Andy Gibb. The only artist he is familiar with since his mother played him often when he was a kid. He smirks at Victor.

“You’re about fifty years too late for the glory days.”

Zsasz closes and locks the door. His brows are knitted together in confusion as he peers over at Jim.

Jim’s mouth stretches into an uncomfortable looking grin. “The disco music?”

Victor looks up as he listens for what song is playing. He smiles and shakes his head. “It’s gonna make a comeback.”

He stretches a toothy grin as he grabs onto Jim’s hips and begins to lead him. He ushers the smaller man into a sitting room decked out with black leather couches in front of a brick fireplace with a black mantle that spans the length of the wall. A soft blue glow from the powered sound system can be seen sitting on top of it. The device is currently streaming the disco channel which can be heard from speakers located throughout the ground level. 

Jim looks around to get a feel for the gunman’s private space. There wasn’t much of anything else in the space except for the sofa. Victor’s tastes bordered on Spartan; no clutter of personal effects or mementos— _much like himself_. 

Zsasz pulls Jim to him to resume where they left off in the studio. He plants a soft chaste kiss and pulls back. 

Jim wraps his arms around Victor’s shoulders. Heavy-lidded eyes track all over creamy white skin. Hands are spread across his back as fingertips dig down, ensuring he can not pull away. Zsasz whispers huskily.

“Sorry if I don’t offer you anything. I wanna get down to business.”

He shoves Jim onto the couch. The smaller man flails before making a cushy landing on his back atop thick cushions. 

Jim smirks up at Victor as he props himself on his elbows. He watches as his pale lover whips off his coat and rips open his shirt. Buttons fly off and sound their impact on the wooden floors before rolling off to corners unknown. He takes in the sight of faded tallies scrolled over Victor’s chest and arms. Little puckered reminders of the man’s tenacity for violence and obscene need to record his kills.

Zsasz narrows his eyes down at the detective when he notices his wandering eyes and stiffened muscles. He walks over to the mantle and retrieves a switchblade. He glances over at Jim; the man is watching him intently. The detective appears to be both appalled and turned-on by his marks. He strolls back to the couch and towers over the supine blonde.

He begins undoing his pants. “Something tells me you don’t want me coz’ I’m a great dancer.”

Jim stares at the blade in Victor’s hand then shifts his eyes to watch as loose slacks slip over lily white hips, showcasing nothing underneath. His eyes remain glued as Victor’s pants slip further to reveal the base of his cock. Jim growls softly.

“I want all of you, the dangerous side as well as the charmer.”

Zsasz quickly undresses all the way, flinging every item every which way. He presses the button on the auto blade and brandishes the sharp weapon. 

Jim’s eyes snap towards the sound of the switchblade extending. He tears his sights from the knife just as Victor lunges at him. His body is roughly handled as the larger man climbs on top of him. He resists, unsure what Zsasz intends to do. Victor grabs his right arm and wrenches it over his head. He then feels the knife at his throat.

Victor nips at his chin as he unleashes a small hiss. “Oh, Jim. I wanna **fuck** the stiff cop attitude right outta you.” 

Jim squirms a little; the man is dense and unmoveable. He feels the sharp edge of the blade bite into his skin, just enough to cause a sting. Instead of causing him concern it only serves to fan the flames inside. He bites his lower lip and thrusts into Zsasz.

Victor lets out a moan of approval as he presses his lips to Jim’s ear. “Just say _disco_ if things get too intense. Got that?”

Jim grins as his free hand begins to explore Victor’s backside. “Yes.”

Zsasz flashes his teeth in a large smile. He grabs Jim by his shirt and begins slashing at the garment, rendering it into ribbons. He sits up and commands.

“Take off your jacket and shirt.”

Jim narrows his eyes as Zsasz gives him space to remove his clothing. He quickly whips off his jacket and tattered shirt, flinging the garments to the ground by the couch. His inside jacket pocket spills onto the floor.

Victor glances down and spies Jim’s badge. He grins as he leans over and takes it; it's attached to a long lanyard. He dangles it over the detective.

“Put this on.”

Jim takes his badge and loops the black nylon over his head, draping his detective shield over his chest. He grabs up at Victor’s neck and growls out.

“Now, you. Put your gloves on.”

Zsasz licks his lips as his eyelids close. He lets out a throaty chuckle dripping with lurid satisfaction. He puckers his lips as he groans out.

“Ooo. Careful, detective. I might blow my load before we even begin.”

Victor dismounts and strolls over to his coat. Jim leers at plump buttcheeks that bob up and down with the man’s long gait. He bites his lower lip when Victor bends over to grab his coat; the saucy man peers over at him with a mischievous grin.

Zsasz drops the blade and retrieves his gloves from inside a pocket. He then rights himself and turns as he slowly slips the leather garments on. He flashes a coquettish look as his hands teasingly slide down his chest. His left hand takes a hold of his full and heavy cock. He gives himself a couple of tugs.

Jim watches enthralled. He then leaps off the couch and begins flinging his shoes off and undoing his belt. Zsasz strums his fingers in a gesture for him to come. He quickly approaches as he unzips his pants. Two gloved-hands wrap around his throat and usher him towards a wall. His back slams hard against the drywall as Zsasz begins bearing down on his neck.

“I like being on the receivin’ end but with you…” Victor lets out a growling chuckle. “I’ve fantasized what I’d do to you.”

He releases the detective and drops to his knees. He roughly yanks down Jim’s loosened pants and boxers. He moans with approval once he is eye to eye with the blonde’s engorged cock. He looks up at the flushed man who is carefully stepping out of the clothing pooled at his feet. 

Jim reaches out and palms Victor’s smooth head. “And I’ve always wanted to run my hands all over you.”

Zsasz closes his eyes and leans into the caresses. A deep-throated purr issues as he revels in the soft feathery strokes that tickle his scalp.

Jim grabs at the base of his cock and gently urges Victor to get to work by pulling him in closer to the tip.

Victor glances up when the dewy head contacts his lips. He grins widely and quickly dives in as his mouth opens wide. He takes the entire length in as he grabs onto Jim’s hips. The head slips just beyond his tongue and nudges the back of his throat. He can hear Jim groan as soon as the warmth and wetness encompasses him fully.

“Shit. Victor.” Jim exclaims.

He leans back onto the wall as he begins pumping in small short thrusts. He gazes down through cloudy eyes. Nothing else exists except the velvety tongue wiggling and lapping as Zsasz bobs up and down. He surrenders to the moment and exhales a raspy breath as he melts against the wall.

Victor relinquishes his hold of Jim’s hips. He slides his hands up tight abdominals towards the detective’s golden-haired chest. He deepthroats the pulsing cock and begins to suck firmly. Jim begins to thrust as he lets loose a gravelly moan. He smiles inwardly, triumphant in knowing he has the infamous Jim Gordon quivering.

Jim utters through labored breaths. “You have no idea how often I wanted to shove my dick in that smart ass mouth of yours.” 

Victor slowly releases Jim from the suction. He licks at the tip before looking up and smirking.

“All you had to do was ask. I woulda dropped my guns... _and your pants._ ” He winks up at the detective.

Jim chuckles. “Come here.”

Victor slowly rises as he licks a long slow wet stripe from the blonde’s erection, up his abs, chest, and neck. He grabs at the black lanyard of the detective badge and wraps it around his left fist. He keeps wrapping until he sees Jim struggle to take a full breath. Two warm hands begin to knead his cock and balls as a slender neck presents itself. He dives in and bites down. 

The detective then reaches around to clench down on his ass. Jim begins thrusting his wet cock against his own; their erections slip and slide decadently all over each other. He chokes Jim a little harder and watches as their dewy tips rub onto each other. 

Zsasz groans through rough breaths. “That’s it, baby.”

His encouragement prods Jim to go faster. Victor groans; his cock throbs and jolts with the faster friction. The sounds the blonde is emitting only intensifies how turned-on he feels. He never thought for a single moment that he would have Jim in such a way. He shakes his head and pulls away, fearing he will blow too soon. He forces the detective to him by the lanyard.

“I want you in my bed so I can take my time with you.”

He dips down, wrapping his arms around Jim’s waist. He stands upright again as the blonde wraps his legs and arms around him. 

The strength of the younger man ignites the detective. Strong arms hold him tightly as he wraps himself around Victor. He undulates against a firm stomach, desperate for the continued feel of skin.

Zsasz gapes in awe of the undone blonde in his arms. He’s never seen anything so provocatively sexy. He’s been to many garish places of the night that specialize in flesh, but Jim caught in the throes of desire and writhing in his arms tops them all. He laments it may be a long time before anything tops tonight.

He walks them out of the sitting room towards a staircase. A song from [ The Bee Gees ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nREV8bQJ1MA)is in the middle of its lyrics. Victor stops at the base of the staircase. He playfully sways and begins to sing along. Jim chuckles softly as he holds on.

_"Nobody gets too much heaven no more. It's much harder to come by. I'm waiting in li—ne. Nobody gets too much love anymore. It's as high as a mountain and harder to cli—mb.”_

Zsasz hits the high notes without a hitch. Jim’s smile spreads wide; he’s completely taken by the incorrigible killer. He’s positive that if he knew nothing of Victor’s murderous profession, he would fall head over heels. He purrs.

“This is a very nice way to get me to dance.”

Victor growls salaciously. “If ever you want more lessons, the price is you spread eagle under me. Bring those lips down here.”

Jim leans over and plants his mouth on him. He releases his legs from around Victor’s waist as he clings to his shoulders. Their kissing turns frantic; Victor begins pumping his erection against him. 

The tip of Victor’s dick contacts Jim’s badge holder. He pulls back and watches as he rams the badge a couple of more times. 

Victor chuckles impishly. “Would you be upset if I cum all over your badge?”

Jim blinks. He knows the man is kidding, but the thought of his shield being defiled in such an undignified way makes him bristle. He huffs out with mild annoyance. 

“Find out.”

Zsasz purses his lips together and pouts. “Gonna punish me?”

Jim relents his admonishment and smirks. “Something tells me you would enjoy it.”

Victor beams an opened-mouth smile and grabs the blonde by his detective badge. He begins ascending the stairs. 

“Not as much as I’m gonna enjoy hearin’ you moan out my name.”

Jim emits a low growl of approval as he clamps onto a pale buttcheek. Victor tightens the lanyard around his fist.

Once they enter the bedroom, Victor scoops up Jim into his arms and falls onto the bed. He smothers the smaller man underneath him as he slots himself in between his legs and into his neck. He takes several playful nips before biting down hard. 

The detective squirms in a panic. “Vic— _disco!_ ”

Zsasz pulls back. “Did I bite too hard?”

Jim shakes his head. “No marks where I can’t hide them.”

Victor grumbles out an indecipherable sound of acknowledgment and begins to slither down Jim’s body.

“Anywhere else is fair game?”

Jim latches onto Victor’s head and ushers him down. “Yes.” He pops his head up and peers down as a gloved-hand takes hold of his aching member. 

“Just not… _that_.” He smiles uneasily.

Victor chortles with the comment. “This.” He swipes at the head with his tongue. “I plan on only pleasurin’.”

Jim shudders with the contact. He thrusts into Victor’s grip, desperate for more. The deliciously deep-throated mouth encompasses him once again. He melts back onto the bed.

Victor bobs up and down on the cock, lapping up the dewy brine spilling forth. He lets out a long _mmm_ and deep-throats him as he hums. He lavishes it with serious attention for a couple of minutes. Jim’s gravelly voice hitches as he lets out a breathy moan.

“Victor. Damn. You’re so good.”

Zsasz pulls off and strokes the shaft with lazy licks. He admires the flawless perfection of golden skin before him. He nudges his head on Jim’s inner thigh, placing kisses and licks all along in between his legs.

“Such perfect skin. I wanna mark you.”

A deep-throated moan rumbles from Jim. Victor flashes all of his teeth in a large smile, taking it as tacit permission. He crawls over him and snatches flaxen tresses into a fist. He then leans over to the right, atop of his night stand lays a box cutter that he uses to mark himself. He takes it and returns to laying himself over Jim.

Jim is burning for the feel of Victor in between his legs and the promise of a little pain. The man bares down a little harder on his hair as he wrenches his head back. He lets out a hiss from the sting. He snakes his hands to Victor’s back and clenches down hard. His legs thread with that of finely-honed long ones. He hears the blade sliding out of its metal casing then the sting as Victor wastes no time. The razor slices the thin skin just below his clavicle. The pale wielder moans in approval as he continues. Jim feels the second cut go deeper as Zsasz utters.

“When you look in the mirror I want you to think of **me**.” 

Jim digs his nails into the man’s back as the burn of sliced dermis layers continues. The stroke is slow and steady. He bites his lower lip and shakes his head.

“After tonight, you’ll definitely be on my mind.”

Zsasz purrs as he examines his work. He peers up at the detective; the man is watching him. He grips down on the man’s hair and snarls.

“Good!” He flashes his clenched teeth as he gives Jim another yank.

Another slice begins. Jim’s fingernails are now embedded in Victor’s back. The third cut is deeper still. He lets out a groan and squirms under the younger man.

Victor hisses and growls under his breath. “Careful. I would hate for my hand to slip. I’d have to start all over again.”

The tortuous carve ends. Zsasz grins at his work. “The perfect letter “Z”.”

Jim’s chest is heaving as beads of sweat percolate on his forehead. He releases Victor from his death grip and fingers the bloodied slices on his chest. His index and middle finger come away red. Zsasz takes them and licks at the blood.

Jim watches as a long tongue curls and laps his fingertips clean. Victor then leans in and smashes his mouth to his. He tastes of salty copper; his essence mingles with Victor’s sweet taste. He sucks at his lower lip before nipping and tugging at it. He lets the plump flesh go from between his teeth and beams a smile up at Victor.

“You taste good.”

“As do you.”

The assassin props up on his palms and knees, depositing the box cutter on the nightstand. He then opens a drawer and rummages for a couple of seconds. Once he finds what he is looking for he sits back on his heels. He pops open the tube of lubricant as he eyes Jim laid out before him, spreadeagle and dripping blood. He moans at the sight.

Jim watches as Zsasz squirts the lubricant on both their erections. Victor then tosses the tube to the side and resumes tenting himself over him. The feel of a leathered-hand caressing his right arm urges him to take hold of both their members. He complies eagerly. Teeth clamp down on his neck as Victor begins thrusting. Long slippery strokes elicit a deep moan as their two heads rub onto each other. His grip tightens ever so slightly.

Victor shudders. He dives onto Jim’s mouth and shoves his tongue deep inside. His thrusts become quicker as he rams into the delicious tightness of Jim’s hand and silky skin. 

Jim can feel himself on the verge of releasing; he whimpers into Victor’s mouth. The man pulls back ato peer down at him. He notes how lost in the moment the younger man looks as he chases the feel of their skin gliding together. Large eyes gaze back at him as labored breaths expel from parted lips.

Victor leans in and moans into Jim’s ear. “I’ve always wanted you.” His thrusts become fast and wild as he continues. “I’d kill for you… (groans) and I’d gladly do it. _All for you._ ”

Jim is teetering on the edge but falls over with his lover’s words. The orgasm hits him hard; he lets out a throaty gasp and thrusts along with Victor. His seed spills and lubricates them further. A hand returns to his hair and yanks his head back.Teeth grip down gingerly as Victor thrusts wildly into his clutching hand. Then he feels the hot spray of cum mingle with his own.

Zsasz slumps down onto his body. Jim gasps as the densely built man lays most of his weight on him. He tries to squirm away but a hungry mouth attaches to his own. The kiss is as wet and sloppy as their stomachs.

Victor pulls back and adjusts his weight to give the smaller man some relief. Jim’s breaths out a sigh; his chest heaving. The disheveled blonde watches him. He marvels at Jim’s softness which seems to only multiply as he lays there underneath him, spent and glowing.

An impish grin beams down as he wiggles on top of Jim; viscous fluids adhere the two men to each other.

“It musta been awhile considerin’ how much is down there.”

Jim raises an eyebrow but soon nods. “Maybe a couple of months.”

Zsasz’s brow rises at the reply. He then flashes his teeth and comments. “Stay da’night; I want ‘nother round.”

An apprehensive look spreads across Jim’s face. Zsasz’s mouth pulls down as his eyes narrow.

“Have I become a pumpkin again, Cinderella?”

“No, the opposite. It’s the first time I don’t feel like running away.”

Victor’s smile returns. “Same but then again I’m home already. Also, I need more than just one taste of you.”

Jim wraps his arms around Victor. “Same.”

___

  
  


Morning.

Jim wakes with a start. The gray morning light filters through tightly drawn blinds. He blinks around in confusion then remembers he is in Victor Zsasz’s bed. He turns his head expecting to see the pale body of his lover beside him, but the bed is empty. He sits up and lets out a groan. His body aches where the assassin paid special attention when they went at each other again. 

The bedroom door opens. Zsasz is in his usual all black attire with his holster and guns on. He is carrying clothes in his arms.

Zsasz smiles as he sheepishly holds up the tatters that were once Jim’s shirt. “Mornin’. Might wanna borrow one of my shirts.”

Jim blinks but soon leaps out of bed having remembered he promised to meet Havey for breakfast. 

“Shit. What time is it?”

“Seven-thirty. Gotta go to work?”

Jim hurries to the closet to select a shirt. “No. Breakfast date.”

He can hear Zsasz suck his teeth and make an offhand comment. “Jealous.”

Jim walks into the extravagant space. The closet is highly organized and wafting of leather, cedar, and polish. He replies as he removes a shirt from a wooden hanger. 

“It’s only Harvey.”

Zsasz shakes his head and mutters to himself. “Not helpin’.”

Jim weaves his arms into a black button-up as he exits the closet. He takes his clothing from Victor as he assesses him. He then comments with an uneasy smile as he turns to head to the bed.

“Early day?”

Victor’s eyes follow the semi-nude detective; he replies dismissively. “Oswald. You know how he gets.”

Jim flashes a pained grin. “Right.”

Zsasz watches as the blonde lays his clothing on the bed. His shirt drapes comically on the detective’s smaller frame, highlighting his nakedness. He prowls up to the man as he growls out.

“You look ravishin’ in nothing but my shirt, by the way.”

Jim peers over his shoulder and smirks. “ _Easy_. We both have places to be.” 

The detective commences dressing drill style: socks, two-legs in pants, hasty shirt tuck while slipping on his dress shoes, jacket, then pants and belt fastening.

Victor nods in amazement; the man is fast. He figures it must be a leftover trait from his military days. The detective checks his clothing for all of his belongings. Victor points over at a nightstand.

“Don’t forget your badge.”

Jim races over and pockets it. He turns to find Victor approaching behind him. The gunman is mulling over a thought and after a moment of silence Zsasz comments.

“Jim, I invited you to my **home**.”

The detective peers up at the pale face watching him intently. The way Victor is carrying himself is different, now that he’s back in the familiar trappings of his notorious gunslinger persona. There’s concern in that poignant statement as well as a warning. He replies cautiously.

“ _I have no idea where I am._ What about you? Will you keep last night to yourself?”

The assassin’s posture loosens a little. He blinks and nods before allowing a grin to return to his lips.

“Promise.” Zsasz holds up his left little finger. “Pinky swear?”

Jim eyeballs the childish gesture with a raised eyebrow. His shoulders slump as he glowers at the man.

Victor’s eyes widen as he nods towards his raised hand. “Really, Jim? Gonna leave me hangin’?”

“I trust you when you say you promise. Also, last time I did a pinky swear I was a child.”

The killer smiles broadly as he drops his hand. “You’re like a stiff muscle; huh, Jim? I guess I’m gonna need to keep workin’ you loose, I suppose.”

The detective scoffs. “Yeah. I guess you’ll just have to keep trying.”

Large baby blues blink up at him from a shy smile. Victor leans over and plants a soft kiss on the man’s lips.

“I called you a cab. It’s waitin’.”

The detective’s face goes hard all of a sudden, wiping the smile off Victor’s face. Arresting blue eyes drill into him as Jim zips up his jacket. He raises a hairless-brow as his eyes grow wide with uncertainty. The lawman steps into him and places a warm hand on his cheek.

Jim struggles to compromise his sense of duty for criminals. Oswald received many passes, but he’s since learned the error of his ways. Zsasz was a pleasant distraction, one he wouldn’t mind repeating, but it won’t stop him from doing his job. The only thing he can offer the pale killer are words of caution.

“Don’t ever put me in a position where I’m looking for you other than on Friday nights at The Studio.” 

Jim glances at the guns strapped to Victor’s holster before letting him go.

Zsasz smiles as he narrows his eyes. “You’ve been down this road before with Penguin.” He shrugs and smiles boyishly. “It’s my job to misbehave.”

Jim grits his teeth and is about to retort, but a gloved-finger pressing to puckered lips silences him. Victor’s eyes widen as he nods towards the door; he drops his hand.

The detective casts a hard gaze up at Zsasz before marching towards the door. Victor’s voice calls out once he passes the threshold.

“Come ready to dance next time!”

Jim halts momentarily and answers brusquely. “ _Fine._ ”

  
  


___

  
  


Jim hurries through the door of The Griddle House. Harvey is there already working on his cup of coffee and the current newspaper. There is a cup there waiting for him. The older man looks up and greets him with a soft gruff.

“You’re late.” 

Harvey sets his paper down and watches as Jim slides into the booth, the typical _Jim Gordon smil_ e plastered on an unshaven-face. Sheepish eyes blink at him as the man gets comfortable in the booth. He narrows his eyes. There is something different about Jim; he can’t quite put his finger on it. 

Jim clears his throat as he takes the lukewarm cup of coffee. “Sorry. Traffic.”

Harvey’s eyes narrow to slits as he leans in. It finally dawns on him; Jim is in his evening clothes. He sniffs at the blonde; his friend even smelled different. 

Jim sets the cup down to see Harvey lean over the table; his dog-like nose inhales deeply a few times. He crosses his arms and shakes his head as the older man’s brows fly up.

“Ooooh. Get lucky; did’ya?”

“I swear that’s your superpower.” Jim retorts as he takes off his leather jacket.

Harvey eyes the shirt Jim is wearing which looks to be two sizes too big. He then busts out laughing. 

“So, found a hook-up at The Studio then?” Harvey leans back in the booth and resumes consuming his coffee.

Jim winces. He glances up at Harvey, refusing to reply. The older detective shakes his head and continues.

“It’s ‘bout time! If I looked like you and I were single, I’d be a _grade-A_ super slut.”

Jim chuckles and leers. “Harv, you are!”

Over the restaurant speakers plays a [ well known song. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RVwiixXViT0) Jim smiles into his cup of coffee as his best friend bellows in laughter from the comment. For the first time he actually enjoys the corny disco genre.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. This was suppose to be a short story but I went a little overboard. It took longer to finish this than I would have liked but it is done! Now to get back to other stories =)


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